Managing death

She grips my hand. 'Oh, Steven. There's so much you still don't understand. I pity you. The lessons of your time are far crueller than anyone could expect.'

'Don't pity me,' I say, and I've never seen her look so amused.

She grabs my face, jerks my head towards hers, and kisses me hungrily. Her lips are as cold as mine, her heart as silent and stealthy as the one in my chest. For a moment I am intoxicated.

Yes, it would be easier. She would understand me in ways that Lissa can't hope to. We could have this forever.

But the thought lasts only for a moment. I pull away, wipe my mouth with my sleeve. Bloody hell, what was I thinking?

'No,' I say.

Then I hear the intake of breath. Recognise the new heartbeat in the room.

'What are you doing here?' Lissa's eyes are wide with hurt, but they're ready to ignite into anger. All it needs is someone as unsubtle – or cruel – as Suzanne to set it off. Or someone as stupid as me.

My cheeks are burning. It's not as if I did anything wrong… Other than lie to her. Just how did that happen again?

'I'm surprised he didn't tell you,' Suzanne says. 'I made him an offer he couldn't refuse, and well…' She looks at me slyly, 'He didn't refuse it.'

'You bitch!' Lissa snarls. 'You can't keep out of my family's business, can you?'

'Business is business, Lissa. Nothing more. What happened between your father and me… I understand why you might blame me. But -'

'I don't blame you.' Lissa's right hand clenches into a fist. 'Oh, hang on a minute, yes, I do.'

'That's enough.' I raise my hands in the air, step between the two of them. 'It's all just a -' And Lissa's fist connects with my jaw. She looks from me to Suzanne and back again. I'm not sure who she meant to hit. I don't think she is, either.

'You bastard,' she says – that's definitely aimed at me. 'You had to go and do this.'

And she's out of that room before I can open my mouth.

I rub my jaw, spin on Suzanne. 'You set me up! You arranged for her to come home!'

Suzanne's face hardens. 'You didn't see this coming?'

'No, I didn't.'

'Why the hell did you flirt with me?'

My face is burning. 'I never -'

'You did. The coat, the lingering looks.'

'I thought I was just playing your game.' And then rage explodes inside me. 'Piss off, now. GO!'

'I'll let you get away with that, but only because I feel a certain element of sympathy. Particularly with what lies ahead. But you will never talk to me like that again.' Suzanne shifts away.

I'm left in the empty room. I run to the hallway. Lissa's nowhere to be seen. Out onto the verandah, and then onto the street. Heat slaps me in the face nearly as hard as Lissa's right hook.

I don't mind the pain. I deserve it.

Where the hell is Lissa? I close my eyes, feel her heartbeat. She's back in the kitchen. I run to her.

'You lie to me about not meeting her, about not accepting her offer, and then you're kissing.' She wipes at her eyes. 'If you want to be with one of them, I can understand that. They're your people now. But to try and keep us going, while – oh, Jesus, Steven. I never thought you'd be such a prick.'

'Yeah, I'm a prick. I won't argue with you. I'm an absolute arsehole.'

'Agreeing with me isn't helping your case.'

'But I love you.'

'Did you take up her offer?'

'Yes, but I had no choice.'

'You could have chosen to tell me about it,' Lissa says. 'You could have told me everything. I'm a grown-up. You could have trusted me with this.'

'There's no lies between us,' I say, which is technically a lie. Why do I keep digging myself deeper and deeper holes?

'Just half-truths.' Lissa shakes her head. 'So, Steven, you got your ten extra Pomps. But you lost one as well. I'm not going to take this. Not now. I'm leaving.'

'OK,' I say, because I don't know what else to say. I'm sick with shock. 'But I love you.'

'Maybe you think you do. But this isn't love. These lies aren't love.' She steps towards me. Her heart is racing at 130 bpm, and then it slows, shifts down to eighty. 'Now, you know what you need to do?'

'No.'

'Do I have to spell it out for you? I'm resigning.'

'But -'

'If you don't do this I'll hate you forever.'

'We need you. Mortmax needs you.'

'Don't you dare play that card. You'll do all right. You have her help, after all.'

'I don't want her help.'

'It didn't look like it when I walked in.'

'Lissa -'

'Just do it!'

I look into her eyes, and she holds my gaze. I reach over and she grabs my hands. It was such an easy gesture once, but now so awkward. My hands shake. She's closed to me, but then she opens up, and I can feel her anger as a visceral thing, a burning agony. It shocks me, even though I was expecting it.

I don't want to do this. It's too painful. I'd let go but she's holding my hands so tightly that my fingers hurt.

I draw the energy back from her, the bit of me that makes pomping possible. I unpick it from her essence. I've never had to do this before, and maybe I couldn't if Suzanne hadn't taught me. It's as easy as opening a door. But what it reveals… Here, I can see how I have wounded her. How stupid I was. We're both crying by the time it's done. My lip quivers. 'I'm so sorry.'

'So am I,' Lissa says. She pushes past me, heading into the bedroom. 'Don't follow me!'

A few minutes later, she's back in the kitchen with a bag bulging with her clothes. She drops it, and a black skirt and blouse tumble free. She glowers, kicks her bag away in frustration. She's no longer a Pomp. She's no longer my girl.

I crouch down to help her pick up her things. She pushes my hands away.

'I can manage,' she says.

'You don't need to leave, I'll – you can stay here.'

'You'll leave me in your parents' house? Where everything will just remind me of you?' She bends down, grabs the clothes and shoves them back into her bag.

'We can work this out. I can do better. No more lies.'

Lissa scowls, her lips move as though to frame some sarcastic response and then she seems to think better of it. 'I need time to think.'

'But I -'

'And you have a Death Moot to run. Don't let me get in the way of that.'

Why didn't I tell her about Suzanne? What stopped me from mentioning it? I have no excuse, or I have far too many.

'Lissa, I was set up. I'm sure of it. She wanted you to walk in.' Even to my ears that sounds far too desperate.

'So I could see you kissing her?'

'Yes! This won't happen again… Christ, it didn't happen the first time.'

'Really?' Lissa throws up her hands. 'Yeah, I've seen how it didn't happen. Don't you see? I've watched all this play out before.' Lissa picks up her bag. 'I can't be this person. Not with you. Mum and Dad, they had their problems, and I swore I would never be like that. And I won't.'

'But -' I reach out towards her. She steps away from me, throws her bag over her shoulder. 'I'll come back for the rest later.'

'Where are you going?'

'Somewhere. Anywhere but here. And don't send any of your bloody Avians after me.' She walks back down the hall, and I follow her to the front door.

'This could have been so good,' she says.

'It still -' Lissa shuts the door in my face. I flinch backwards, then grab the handle, fling the door open. Lissa is hunched down on the stairs, sobbing.

'I thought you were going away.'

She clambers to her feet. 'Oh, fuck you.'

'Stay with me, I can protect you.'

Lissa's eyes flare. 'You can't even protect yourself! The prick blew up our car, Steven. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be waiting for a fucking taxi right now! He killed Travis and Jacob, he nearly killed Oscar.'

'But he'll track you down.'

'I'm not a Pomp now. You know that's going to make it harder. I've pulled out of the game. If he comes after me, and if you do, too, you better be prepared for the consequences.'